Osiris Rising

Lord of the First Time -
He shall not pass empty handed.
Look! His arms
Are a cradle of bones. Gathers
Days from the Duat as he goes.

There is only one weighing of words,
One journey worth its salt.
Barefoot, blindfold,
And at the toes - the scarab's scratch,
The ache of wings
To bend through stone.

A rod in the milky ocean.
It is yours to turn -
His only son's burden of proof.

The eastern-eyed falcon
Who flogs the dawn,
From Dendera's roof.